


~His Whiskey Eyes~

by Archangel_Effy



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M, Fanfic, Fluff, One-Shot, SPN - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 16:55:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2158227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangel_Effy/pseuds/Archangel_Effy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being between hunts is a pain, but baking helps. In saying, so does the wonderful Archangel Gabriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	~His Whiskey Eyes~

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of my first FanFics/One-shots.  
> Sorry if it's kind of grammatically awful. I was super tired and didn't proof read.

You’d spent so long in the bunker with the Winchesters that you were actually contemplating baking, and you knew that would worry them. Every time one of the boys would catch you baking it always led to you breaking down in tears and sobbing incoherently in their arms. But this time it was the sheer boredom and lack of a hunt, you just needed to use your hands, beat the crap out of some dough, or cut into an overly sweet brownie. 

You pushed yourself passed the slight crack in your bedroom door—since being too lazy to fully open it. Dean was happily tapping away to Kansas , scanning over some files, Sam was stuck deep in his laptop, probably trying to find y’all a case; it had gotten to all three of you, not working, being suffocated by each other. Even though you loved the boys they were the biggest pain in your ass.   
Sam lifted his head at the sound of your footsteps a larger than usual grin tugging at his lips. “(Y/N)~! You’re alive.” He teased, his emerald eyes traveling down your body as he cocked an eyebrow. “And you’re not wearing pants.” You shrugged; it had become a normality to strut around the Winchester boys without needing to fully clothe yourself. “It’s a new look I’m trying out. You like?” Sam couldn’t help the sly chuckle falling from his lips. “I can live with it.”   
“Good.” Your reply was quick. A small snicker escaped your throat upon the soft snores of Dean. He’d been exhausted for days and quite restless- you thought it best not to disturb him, strutting into the kitchen.   
“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Concern fluttered in Sam’s voice as he eyed you.  
“What? Nothing,” You arched a brow in confusion.   
“You’re heading to the kitchen… that always means the worst.” You found it sweet and somewhat relieving that he cared so much.  
“I’m telling you, nothing is wrong. Besides the excruciating boredom. I need to bake!” You giggled, finally stepping foot into the large kitchen.  
“Alrighty,” Sam shrugged. “Let me know if you need anything.” You really didn’t feel the need to reply, he knew you well enough to know that you would always ask for help when it was appropriate.

Fooling around in the kitchen you began to hum gleefully to yourself, mixing together a bowl of brownie mix that you had constructed from scratch—with the flick of your wrist. It was easy to do so, seeming you were the spawn of an angel and a demon, having greater power than you would like. You hated being an abomination, it made you physically sick to think about, but you still accepted the fact that it was useful and used it to the best of your ability.   
Your thought process was cut off as you heard that elegant fluttering of angelic wings. Figuring it was Castiel you didn’t bother to turn around, greeting him with a simple, “Good afternoon, pigeon.” Castiel hated that name, and you knew it. The angel smirked, his hands covering your eyes. “Guess again, cupcake.” You sighed heavily, what did he want? “Gabriel,” You pushed his soft hands away from your face. “What are you doing here?” Your tone was cold, knowing that he wanted something, and he always did when he popped in unexpected. “I just wanted to see my favourite abomination.” You could feel his signature eyebrow wiggle. You hated that abomination. You knew it was true, but coming from him, it just burned. Gabriel could feel the anger emitting from your body at his cold words. “I- uh, sorry, (Y/N). It was a joke… I…” His eyes shifted to the floor, noticing your lack of pants, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. The archangel wrapped his arms around your waist—this was odd? What the hell was he doing? “It’s… it’s fine.” You murmured, not sure if you should pull away from his strangely comforting embrace. He rested his chin to your shoulder, his warm breath against your neck. You could smell a delicate scent of Swiss chocolate caressing his breaths.   
“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t… yeah.” You felt your lips curve into a soft smile at the archangel’s sincerity. What has gotten into him? Wait… he was still touching you. You pulled out of his arms, turning to face Gabriel—his whiskey eyes filled with- was that sadness? What? You shook the thought from your mind. God, his eyes though, his beautiful whiskey eyes. “You okay there, (Y/N?” His head titled slightly in confusion at your somewhat vacant stare. “What?” You shook your head. “Uh, oh yeah. I’m cool. Totally fine.” What has gotten into me? “Uh-huh.” Gabriel had taken note of the brownie mix in the bowl, his eyes filling with joy. “Please… tell me that is brownie mix?” He dramatically pouted, meeting his eyes with yours. You let slip a chuckle. “It sure is~!” You were just as joyed as he was; strange. “I’ve come at the right time.” He played with yet another adorable eyebrow wiggle. 

You and the archangel had been talking about god knows what as you waited for the brownies to cook. You’d usually have the odd serious conversation, other than that Gabriel was his usual “trickster-ish” self. “Hey, cupcake?” He interrupted as you placed the hot tray onto a cooling rack. “Yeah?” This was it, you knew he didn’t just pop in to bug you. He wanted something.   
“Have you ever been in love?” There was something different about his tone. It didn’t even sound like Gabriel, it was confused and somewhat pained.   
You didn’t want to admit that you had contemplated the thought of being in love with the archangel, so you simply shrugged. “Uh… I guess? I mean… yeah? Maybe. I-I’m… Why?” Shit, you were getting nervous. What if he knew how you felt? Shit. Gabriel simply shrugged. “Oh, no. No. No. You’re telling me what’s going though that ancient mind of yours.” You urged him to spill his guts. His gaze turned to yours, not saying anything. “Gabe..?” You hesitantly questioned. “I… nah, it’s stupid.” His whiskey eyes swarming with a million emotions. You nudged him lightly with your chilled nose. “Come on, cupcake.” Your tone was teasing. “It’s just that,” He swallowed hard—looking for what to say. “Screw it.” You heard Gabriel’s almost inaudible mumble. Your eyebrow rose with curiosity. He shook his head a few times, caressing your cheek with his warm thumb. Hesitantly he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in close he leaned down and dragged you into a passion driven kiss. You didn’t hesitate at all kissing him back with just as much passion. Your tongues danced in a twist and whirl of ecstasy, your arms around his neck—his traveling down to your hips. He pulled away, seeming as though he was out of breath and rested his forehead to yours, muttering in Enochian. You knew exactly what he said: I love you, (Y/N).   
You felt a rush of mixed emotions destroying your entirety. “I love you too, Gabriel.” Your simple words slipped off your tongue in plain English.


End file.
